It wasn't like me to be inconsiderate, but I couldn't stop thinking about her, and normally when I got this way about anything, striking metal soothed me. It should have. Therefore, I wondered why I still felt like a live-wire.
If I opened that door, and let her in, with her bruised eyes and defiant stare, there was no telling what I would do. It’d been a long while since someone had gotten to me.
Come to think of it, I hadn't felt ready to explode like this since when I’d first fell in love before I’d been sired. It was so unlike me being in such a continuous state of arousal like I was around Augusta.
“It’s unlocked,” I said.
The handle twisted, and Augusta walked in wearing one of my lumberjack shirts which were oversized on her. She also had a pair of my long-johns on, which she turned up at the ankles. I think she must have also rolled them down around her hips. Otherwise, I didn't see how they were staying up on her.
“How do you work with wood and fire, you know, being a vampire?” she asked upon entering.
I sighed. “Oxygen is optional for me. When I cut wood or sand it or whittle it, I don’t breathe in the sawdust. As for fire, it could burn me which would kill me. It could, if I was careless, but I try not to be.”
The sight of her was so pleasant, and it hit me in such a way that I was wasn't expecting, that I put my anvil down on the ground and stared at her. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable. After all, she had wondered if I was a serial killer when we first met. What would this ceaseless staring make her think?
She started shifting from heel to toe. Frowning at myself for being so obtuse—I hurried over to a chair and offered it to her. “Have a seat?”
She looked into my eyes, and then her gaze traveled down to my bare chest. I flushed. Having freshly had some blood I kept in the refrigerator, my pale skin showed a slight tinge of color.
Her eyes widened and they flew to mine again. “I just realized something. How did my assailant get to my cabin? I couldn’t see any vehicles.”
I looked at her dubiously. “Were you able to see much at all, in this weather?”
“It was blurry, but I have really good vision. Just like I have a sensitive nose. And I think whoever it was, was strange. I smelled a strong odor of bleach. Almost as if they bathed in it to confuse my nose. Who would do that unless they knew I was an Alpha shifter?”
It was true. Augusta would have been able to pick out the scent of her stalker unless the person had distorted it. Knowing that, it made sense her stalker would try to camouflage his or her scent.
Uneasiness washed over me, and concern for her took precedence. I had a duty to find out what had happened to Slade, but I had a responsibility to protect the living—to protect her.
Don't lie to yourself, Cade.
It wasn’t just a duty to her. I was beginning to realize something more was happening between us. Silently, I withheld a groan. Of all the people she could have gone to, she chose me. I needed to keep Augusta safe.
“I just wanted to tell you that piece of information before we got busy looking for clues regarding the case,” she said.
I turned my lips down. “We?”
“Let’s not get into that again. I think we've established that I can help.”
With a sigh, I traced my tattoos. In order to protect her, I needed to keep her away from the dangerous aspects of the case, and yet I wanted her to stay close to me. She would have to stay in my cabin, which meant I'd have to behave.
She looked so adorable in my clothes, and I wondered how that would go for me. I sighed. When had I become so masochistic? Her being near, without me doing anything, was going to be torture.
“Is that all?” I asked.
She looked at me, her eyebrows drawn together in a baffled way. Then she took a deep breath. “No, it's not. Also, I was wondering if perhaps I could use your phone.”
For a minute, I’d forgotten that she didn't live in these parts, and she'd only been visiting. She would have to go home eventually—back to her life. While she was here, it only stood to reason she’d keep in touch with her friends from the city. Not everyone could afford to be as reclusive as I was.
Keep that in mind, Cade.
Of course, she had people she answered to. Those same people she probably needed to speak to. For all I knew, she had a boyfriend that she wanted to call. That thought didn’t sit well with me in any way.
“Sure, yeah.” I scratched my chin. “I'm sure your boyfriend's worried.” What had made me say that? When had I ever cared if a woman had a significant other? I didn't date.
But I realized I was holding my breath waiting for her answer.
“We broke up, I just wanted to call my office and check my messages. Don't worry, I won't take long. I just can't sleep, and it's something I do when I can't.”
Making certain I got this right, I said, “You check your messages in the middle of the night?” But what I really wanted to say was who doesn't bring their phone when they take a vacation to a cabin in the woods when they have people to call? I wisely refrained.
She shrugged. “It’s why I left it behind. I was trying to kick the habit.”
Shaking my head, I retrieved my smart phone and handed it to her. “I should probably tell you, you won't have any privacy, so if it's something you don't want me to hear, run some water. You know from the faucet.”
Her jaw dropped open, and finally, I saw a grin I’d hoped would appear, but hadn’t shown since she’d come to me frightened, flicker across her lips. “You’ve got running water?”
“Yes.” Then she slanted me a sideways glance. “Is it really going to stop you from hearing my messages?”
I shook my head. “Think your hearing times ten. Sorry, but I thought saying I wouldn’t overhear you with the water trick would give you some peace of mind.”
She laughed then. It was a surprising, bubbling, appealing, and enchanting sound. I watched the light flow across her face. I heard the humor. It was contagious, and I found myself offering up a half smile in response.
“I’ll remember that, Cade.” And holding up my phone, she mouthed thank you. I watched as she let herself out of the workroom.
CHAPTER TEN
*Augusta*
CADE HAD LOOKED SO HOT inside in his workroom. The vampire called to me with his old power mixed with my new infatuation. The strength in him was apparent in the way he handled the anvil. No mortal man could have wielded it so effortlessly. It must have been as heavy as Thor's hammer, and all I could do was watch him as he exhibited such masculinity.
Placing my hand over my beating heart, I pattered to my room. I hopped on the bed, opting to sit on my knees while I checked my messages. I expected the usual mundane and hoped that I wasn't missing anything important.
It was strange, the first attempt that I made to open up my message box yielded nothing but the prompt for me to reset my passcode. I did and waited.
I'd done this many times before, and I thought nothing of it. I knew the last time that something like this had happened, I had accidentally entered my passcode more than the maximum allowed times…and incorrectly. Which was another thing that was odd, considering I hadn't attempted to retrieve my voicemail since I'd been here.
I had my messages set to listen to the oldest first and then the newest. Ready, I listened to them. The first ones were all new—within the last two days new. That shouldn’t have been right. It was almost as if something was trying to bury some of the older messages.
And these messages were from old people I’d pitched to and tried to set up a deal with for Cute ‘n Cute Things. Then I received the oddest message of all.
One person was calling to confirm the placemat settings and the names that needed to go on them for the Christmas party that had been moved. What? The Christmas party was moved? I’d been planning to get back in time for it.
I frowned in consternation. The party had been my baby, and I’d put a lo
t of time and effort into making it the end of the year event that brought the office together.
But then the next message was from Mr. Turner, my boss. He was making certain I had a nice Christmas vacation. Mr. Turner said nothing about a canceled Christmas party.
I continued to listen to the rest of my messages a little confused and quite determined to get to the bottom of the canceled Christmas party. I grimaced in concern. Was it just a fluke and the placemat setting company had gotten some wrong information? If that were the case, then I hoped someone had called to get it straightened out.
I sighed. It would be just my luck for the names I had requested be put where each person sat, as well as the decorations I'd ordered for the tree, to be canceled with people having blank cards and undecorated ornaments.
Before I panicked, though, I continued to listen to the rest of the messages. Maybe someone had worked it out already.
As I finished with the oldest messages, I began listening to the newer ones. And that's when I heard it. The party was still canceled, however in its place, another one was scheduled.
The voice wasn't Mr. Smith, or even Mr. Turner's. It was someone I didn't know personally but had heard others mention. The man’s name was William and he was Slade’s competitor. He was calling to confirm that he would attend the private party.
The last thing he said was the proposal was innovative and he looked forward to doing business with Mr. Turner. Then, he made certain it was all right to bring his wife since it would be a closed party.
My blood ran cold as I began to listen to the rest of the messages. As I went through them, my first impulse was to pack up and head straight over to the office and demand to know what the meaning was of what I’d just heard.
Mr. Turner had taken my idea.
I wanted to grab my boss, yell at him, and tell him that I’d trusted him. Instead, I saved and then closed out of my messages. Then I left all the new ones as though I hadn’t listened to them.
Unbelievable. I’d just been betrayed by someone whom I’d thought respected my work, valued me as an employee, and who was my boss. I would never have thought he could have stooped to such a level. I blinked a couple of times, hoping that the anger did not lead to tears, realizing if it didn't, my disappointment would. I had no idea what I was going to do now.
All of my information was at the office. I left the packet with Mr. Turner—and the rest in Mr. Smith’s desk. I doubted Mr. Smith had even seen my entire proposal.
I bet he’d seen the one I’d given to Mr. Turner, though. I stared at the phone. Thank goodness I hadn’t left it all with my direct boss. I wanted to berate myself for pitching the plans to him. But it wasn't as if I’d done anything to put myself in this position.
Mr. Turner was the one I was supposed to go through in the chain of command, to get my ideas heard. He was supposed to consider them and then if they were good, let me know, and then we would set up when I was supposed to do my presentation to the board. He hadn't done that, though. He’d grabbed my idea, changed the players, upped the deadline, and run with it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
*Cade*
SHE WAS WEEPING. IT TORE at the man in me and whispered to the vampire I was. Blood and tears. Sometimes, I had a hard time resisting either.
Tears reminded me of what often happened from the pleasure of my bite. If a lover ever wanted me to, I could give her gratification to the point she cried from the ecstasy of her orgasm.
I sighed. But this wasn’t that kind of sobbing. I heard the dryer start. What on Earth was Augusta doing? At some point in time after she’d checked her messages, she must have made her way to the laundry room.
My heart trampled in my chest. It beat like a hammer pounding a two by four. Unintentionally, I’d heard her messages and something about all of them had upset her. I wanted to take away the pain, but I remembered I’d promised her I wouldn't compel her to do anything.
What should I do? I’d long since stopped pounding steel for the night. I wanted to use my energy in much more delicious ways. Did I dare go to her? No, just ignore her, Cade, and be good. She’ll cry herself to sleep eventually.
In all honesty, I wanted to behave. But to pay her no heed? What kind of host would that have made me? Adjusting myself so she wouldn’t notice how aroused I’d become, I padded down the hall. I’d just check on her to see if she needed anything.
Before I entered the room, I paused. Should I just appear? Or did I knock? She was so quiet now and her breathing had evened out. I didn’t think it weird she was in the room with the washing appliances. For all I knew, maybe she thought the loud rumble of the dryer would keep me from hearing her crying.
I tilted my head to the side puzzling through that thought. If running water was no bar against me overhearing, I couldn’t see how she’d think a tumbling dryer would be. I sighed. In any event, if she’d fallen asleep in the laundry room, I’d move her to her bed.
Not wanting to wake her, if she was asleep, I decided to silently enter. Unfortunately, she was wide awake. She’d turned off the light, though, and sat atop the dryer as it cycled through a load of clothes.
With some wariness, I studied her in the pitch black. I was growing harder seeing her there, wearing my clothes, looking so beautiful and vulnerable.
It excited me. Called to me. Enticed me.
“Cade, am I in the way? Do you need to use this room?”
Smothering a groan, I closed my eyes for the strength to be the man right now who comforted away her tears. When I opened them, I gained a little more of my normal control. How lovely her rich blue eyes were. I could see them perfectly and was aware she could see my eyes too.
“They canceled the Christmas party,” she said miserably.
Yes, I heard, but I was slightly confused why the news seemed so devastating to her. Had she planned it? If so, was her absence why they canceled it and scheduled another, and maybe that was the reason she was so upset?
She looked directly at me, and I could hear the slight shakiness in her breath as she calmed herself down. “I wasn’t supposed to get that message.”
Augusta paused for just a moment and brought an unsteady hand to the inside of her neck. My eyes traveled from her face down to where her hand was. I could see the pulse beating. I swallowed, fighting the lust that surged to the surface, and concentrated on why I had come to her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
There. That sounded reasonable. That sounded normal. I grimaced. That honestly sounded pretty lame.
Her watery eyes dropped to the ground, and then slowly raised trying to catch mine. I fought with myself to lift my gaze from her neck and then I slowly met her stare.
“It’s up to you, Augusta.”
“They just blindly sent me the message the original party was called off, but I’m certain Mr. Turner might have realized the blunder and tried to get into my messages to delete them.” She shook her head. “I was one of the original Christmas party planners. That’s probably why I got the message.”
She licked her lips, and I stifled the sudden desire to do the same to them—and much more to her.
I squinted at her, gallantly holding onto my resolve not to misbehave and take her to my bed by a thread. Remember Cade. You’ve already decided you don’t want her for a one-night stand. It wouldn’t be professional.
I snapped back to the business at hand. Augusta had put together the party. That must have been the reason she was so upset—and why she didn't want this party canceled.
She shook her head in a woebegone way. “Surely I’m just being paranoid and no one’s trying to take my idea—especially, not my boss—right?”
Did she really want me to agree with her? Trying to provide some form of support, I said, “The night they canceled the public Christmas party, they scheduled a private one, correct?”
She nodded. “They moved the Christmas parties because Mr. Turner is closing a deal I lined up with someone I did
n’t. Or I’m just reading more into it than I should. Do you think I am?”
“No.”
Augusta closed her eyes, and a little tear trailed down her cheek. I sighed and stepped further into the laundry room. I didn’t like to lie to myself and I was only being honest with her. It was no good crying in the dark. I crept to the candle on the side wall. I’d give her a little mood light if she didn’t want any of the artificial kind.
“Can we just keep all the lights out?” she asked.
“Why don't I take you to your room?”
She ignored me. “I didn't even think anything of the Christmas party being called off until I heard the second message.” Now she appeared flabbergasted.
I just let her talk.
“So I began asking myself who was that important for the original party to be moved and a restricted party scheduled instead.”
“And the answer you determined, Augusta?”
“Not anyone who Cute ‘n ‘Cute things should be aligned with.”
I shook my head. “The dryer’s stopped.”
She looked a little embarrassed and hopped down. “It’s just something I used to do when I was younger. It helped when I got upset.” She pointed at the appliance. “Your clothes were in the washing machine, and I put them in the dryer for you. I hope you don't mind.”
Mind? The pool of desire which had gathered in the pit of my stomach widened, and it was all I could do to hold myself still. I needed to listen to what she was saying.
To think I’d thought I could ignore her. How was I supposed to not notice Augusta in my cabin when she’d just finished a load of clothes for me? I'd never been one to get excited over domesticity, but now I felt my cock straining in my jeans.
I had to stop thinking about her or I would I have a long night. And so I did the only thing that I could think of. I questioned her to get to the bottom of her upset. “This other party, the one that's taking place instead of the original one, can the attendees be notified that this is your baby?”
The Vampire's Alpha Mate: A BBW Tiger-Shifter Romance (Arcane Affairs Agency) Page 8